Glistening like silver
perched on the edge of the leaf.
So tiny, so perfect
Almost touchable, so fragile.
The urge to place my finger
upon the silvery substance.
Its almost too hard to fight.
I repress my feelings
and my eyes linger
on the exquisite beauty
so delicate and shaped like a tear.
The leaf gently swaying
in the soft cool breeze.
With morning approaching
the sunlight filters through
the branches of the glistening treetops.
With one strong gust of wind
the dewdrop falls into
the pond below and disappears
as though it had never been
leaving no impression.
Is this the cycle of life?
